The Independent Woman
by Beximus
Summary: Catherine learns the true meaning of independence. G/C


The Independent Woman

By Bec

G/C

Disclaimer:  I don't own these people.  Damn shame…

Rating: PG

Archive: The Graveyard Shift.  Worth a visit!

Summary: As part of the Independence Day Challenge on the Graveyard Shift – To write a story with an independence theme to include 6 given words/phrases.  For me, these were:  Abrogate, Fluent, Post-hypnotic suggestion, hay, champagne wishes and caviar dreams, and twilight.  Not the easiest…

So many thanks for this go to Kelly, my wonderful beta, who must take credit for the way the essay is written.  I wouldn't have gotten this finished on time without you.

Thanks to everyone who's given me feedback.  The more I get, the more I write…

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Thursday 3rd July, 2003.  5.30 am.

                Grissom had stood at the back of the interrogation room watching the scene unfold.  So far, he had let Catherine deal with the main line of evidence, and he was impressed.  As he always was.

"We spoke to your buddies at the club," the voice of Jim Brass cut in to the questioning.  "And they had one word for us.  Can you guess what that would be?"

"What?"  The well-dressed murder suspect sat across from Brass and Catherine, unsuccessfully feigning indignance and confusion.

"Abrogate."  Brass looked smug.  Grissom remembered how Catherine had smiled when she realised Brass was using words of a higher level of intelligence deliberately to provoke a response from the man in front of them.

"They revoked your membership."

"And they annulled my subscription too."

                He suppressed a grin later on when he knew the suspect had realised Brass and Catherine were on to him.  Sitting with Catherine and Warrick in the break room, they made sure they had everything ready to present the evidence to the DA.

"To think he had tried to get away with claiming he had murdered the club president due to a post-hypnotic suggestion."  Warrick laughed as he signed some forms.

"He probably thought he had a good case," Catherine agreed.  "After all, it's not really something a lawyer could easily disprove in court."

"No, but he sounded desperate."

                "We can't accuse someone just because of their tone of voice, Warrick."  Grissom added his words of wisdom.  Warrick rolled his eyes at Catherine.

"I know that, Gris.  That's why we have all this in front of us."  He gestured to all of the paperwork on the table, sweeping his arms wide to emphasise how much they had.

"I think you can tell a lot from a person's tone."  Catherine looked up at Grissom suggestively, leaving him trying to hide his confusion and embarrassment.  Going back to her work, she hid a grin.

"Oh, Grissom.  Don't forget tomorrow."  Catherine said, her eyes glued to her paperwork.

"July 4th," he said matter of factly.

"You've forgotten."

"It's not July 4th?"

"You promised Lindsey you'd go to her school Independence Day fair.  You even took the day off for it."  Catherine sighed.  It would have been just like him to forget.  "Well, you get to tell her.  I'm not going to be responsible for putting that look of disappointment on her face."

                "I said I'd go, so I'm going."  He looked up at her, hurt that she thought he would disappoint the girl he looked upon like she were his own daughter.  "It will be fun."

"Are you trying to convince yourself of that?"  Warrick asked, joining in Catherine's teasing.

"You know what he's like, Warrick.  All those people, the conversations.  He'll be hiding behind the gym buildings quicker than it takes a hot dog to cook."  She waited until Grissom returned his gaze back to his paper and winked at Warrick.

                "While you two feel the need to insult your supervisor, I have to get something from my office."  He stood, trying to pretend their words did not affect him, and walked out of the door.

"You get away with murder with him, Cath."

"Not that I push it, but yeah."  Warrick raised his eyebrows at her.  He knew how Catherine liked to play Grissom to get her own way.  "Well, alright.  Most of the time I don't push it.  It's just comfortable working with him, and it's been that way for years and years."

"I wish it was that easy from my point of view."

"It can be.  Grissom respects you enough to relax a little around you.  If you just let yourself be a little more independent of 'Grissom worship',"  She smiled when he frowned, "Then you would be much more at ease yourself."

                "So you're independent then?"

"I am now.  Apart from Lindsey, I'm in the position to do whatever I want, whenever I want.  I'm not tied down to a marriage, or to demands that I don't want.  I could walk away from this tomorrow."

"Lindsey's not a demand then?"

"No."  She smiled to herself at the thought of her precious little girl.  "Lindsey's a pleasure."

"I'll remind you of that next time you shout at her."  He ducked as she threw her pen at him.  "You're a lousy shot."

                "Thank you."

11.34 am

                Catherine shut the car door just as Grissom got out the other side, made himself at home leant against the car door, and watched her.  He had given her a lift home, but had declined her invitation of breakfast and coffee.

"You sure you can't stay for a half hour?"  She liked their shared breakfasts and missed them when either of them could not make it.

"If I don't get this abstract mailed out today, I'll be in big trouble.  Why I ever agreed to write an article on the life cycles of the Nevada Buckmoth is a mystery."

"So you're not just sulking because Warrick and I were picking on you."

"Not at all.  I'm used to you."  He was used to it.  Sometimes he wished she would stop, whether she knew how close to hurting him she was, whether she knew when she did hurt him, and left him wondering if she really meant it.  Sometimes, he loved that Catherine paid him so much attention.

"Right," Catherine looked sceptical, but left it at that.

                "Come on.  I'll make pancakes," she pleaded, one last try.

"You can actually make pancakes?" he asked, unable to keep the smile from his face.

"I suppose I deserved that."  She made to go over to her door.  "I'll call you, let you know what we're doing tomorrow."

"Ok.  If I get finished, I'll call first about dinner."

"You won't."

"Finish?  Or call about dinner?"  He watched as she shook her head.

                "Go write, Gil.  I'll speak to you later."  She finally made her move and went in through her front door, leaving Grissom to admire the view.

4 pm.

                Lindsey came running out into the garden where her mother was sitting reading through some papers.

"Mom!"  She came to a stop by the table.  "My essay won first prize at school."

"That's great, sweetie."  She pulled the girl up onto her lap.  "What was it about?"

"You know, the one where I had to write about someone who I thought was independent."

"Ah.  Who did you write about?"  She frowned as her daughter smiled at her.

"I can't tell you now.  You'll have to wait until tomorrow.  I get to read it out loud on stage at the fair."  Catherine could not help but smile with her daughter.

                "Did I ever tell you how proud I am of you?" she asked.

"I think you said that last week, Mom," she replied, rolling her eyes.  

"Well, I mean it.  I'm very proud of you, sweetie."  She pulled her into a hug.  A book on the table caught the young girl's eyes.

                "Mom, what's that about?"  She pointed to the book and Catherine blushed.  It was called 'Champagne Wishes and Caviar Dreams', one of those trashy romance novels that came from a shelf too high up for her daughter to reach.  Catherine loved to read them.  They were easy, and a complete removal from real life.

"Umm, it's a book about two people who fall in love, Linds."

"Sounds romantic.  Can I read it?"

Catherine smothered a choking sound.  "No, sweetie.  It's a little too grown up for you."  She watched gratefully as Lindsey just shrugged, book discussion over.

"Is Uncle Grissom still coming tomorrow?  He promised."  She had a look of hope and anticipation on her face.  Catherine knew that if Grissom could see her now, he would never say no.

"He said he was.  Let me up, I'll go and call him.  Make sure he knows what time to come pick us up."

                She left the happy girl in the garden and picked up the phone.  She knew his number from heart; she had dialled it so often during the early days with Eddie when she had needed him to calm her, and every day after the divorce when she needed his reassurance that life would indeed be fine.

_"Grissom."_

"Hello Gil."  She heard him let out a breath at the other end.  "How is it going?"

_"Next time I agree to do anything like this, you have my permission to physically restrain me."_

                She had to shake her head to remove the images that had formed.  She smiled.

"I'll remember that."  She tried not to laugh at the absurdity of the situation playing out in her head.

_"Cath?"_

"Oh yeah, reason I called you.  Right."  She heard him chuckling at her.  "The fair opens at 5pm, so if you come pick us up at 4.30, that would be great."

_"Why so early?"_

"Lindsey is reading one of her assignments and I guess she'll have to be there early to know what to do.  She won a prize for it."

_"That's great!  Tell her I'm proud of her."_

"I will."  She glanced back out into the garden to see Lindsey playing in her sandbox.  "I'd better go.  Any ideas about dinner?"

_"It's a little early yet.  Let me see."_

"Ok.  Speak to you soon, Gil."  She listened to his goodbye and ended the call.  She sighed and leant back against the wall, mentally berating herself for her thoughts, no matter how much she enjoyed them.  After a few moments, she stood and headed for her bedroom, suddenly needing to lie down.

9.25 pm.

                Grissom's eyes were going funny after staring at the computer screen for so long.  He did not get up though, he knew that if he could just get this sentence right, the rest should just fall into place.  The trouble was, he had been working on this one sentence for over an hour, and it was driving him crazy.  He was beginning to think that the sentence would have been easier if he were a fluent speaker of Swahili, when a knock at the door finally gave him an excuse to get up.  He casually walked over to the door and opened it to reveal…

                Nothing.

He looked around, confused.  No sign of anyone at all.  Sighing, he pulled back to shut the door and noticed the brown bag sitting on the floor.  It had a note pinned to the front of it.  Completely puzzled he plucked the note up, noting the nice fragrant smell that emanated from the bag making his stomach rumble.  He read it aloud.

'Gil.  Knew you wouldn't be done by dinner, so I thought you would appreciate this.  I didn't want to disturb you.  Hope you finish soon.  Oh, and make sure you get some sleep!  I know you.  Enjoy.  Love Catherine x.'

He pulled the bag up and walked over to the window, catching a glimpse of the back of Catherine's car pulling onto the road.  Grinning, he shut the curtains and deposited the Chinese food in the kitchen, rooting around for chopsticks.  He sometimes wondered what he would do without Catherine, and how the hell he had gotten along before they met.  She had so much on her mind, so much to deal with day to day.  A job, a family, and she took it upon herself to sort him out too whenever he seemed to be going astray.  She knew what he liked to eat, how he took his coffee.  All the little things that he took for granted.  He would not have described it as dependence, but it was times like these when he wondered how he coped alone without her.

Friday 4th July, 2003.  4.40 pm.

He had been outside the house for fifteen minutes, but he was well aware that the Willows women took a long time to get ready.  He was used to it, and would not have changed the situation for anything.  He could faintly hear Lindsey shouting from the house, trying to get her mother out of the door.  He laughed.

Eventually, Catherine and Lindsey emerged from the house, and he could not help but let his eyes linger over Catherine.  She had always had impeccable dress sense, and on numerous occasions, he had caught many of her male co-workers admiring her in a very non-professional way.  He hoped that no one had ever caught him.  She was dressed casually, yet with an air of smartness that she wore so well.  Light colour trousers and a black sleeveless top, a leather jacket folded over her arm.

He tapped his watch and opened the back door for Lindsey.

"Don't say anything, Gil Grissom.  I can bite."

He said nothing as he started the car.  He could sense the end of an argument between mother and daughter, and he had no wish to make things worse.  Neither of them seemed inclined to start a conversation, and he had no idea whether speaking right now was a good idea or not.  He sighed.

                This was going to be a long night.

5.04 pm

                Once they had pulled up, Lindsey had run straight up to her teacher, forcing Grissom and Catherine to rush to keep up with her.  Leaving Catherine to talk with Lindsey's teacher, Grissom looked around the school field.  They had done a very good job of designing the area – a large stage was a centrepiece decorated with several American flags, lines of chairs in front of it.  Several bales of hay were stacked up around the perimeter for people to sit on or congregate around.  In the distance, he could see a large bank of fireworks ready to be let off when it got darker.  As well as all this, there seemed to be plenty of food and refreshments around.

                "Gil?"

He looked back to see Catherine smiling at him.  "What?"

"I thought you got your hearing fixed."  She smiled again as he blushed, and looked away from her.

"I was just looking around," he replied.  "Where's Lindsey?"

"She's gone off to prepare for later.  The show starts in thirty minutes."  She wondered if he knew how cute his embarrassment made him look.  Probably not.

"So we have time to get a drink?"

                "Sure.  I don't think we're needed."  She linked her arm with the one he offered to her, and they slowly walked over to the closest refreshment stand.  They got one or two looks from the people they walked past.  School gossip circles were almost as quick as those in the labs.  People knew that Catherine was single.  Or at least, she should have been.  Grissom had noticed it.

                "See, I'm not behind the gym buildings yet," he grinned at her, bringing up yesterdays 'conversation'.

"There's still time, Gil."

"I love this view you have of me."

"Good.  Looks pretty good from where I'm standing."  Catherine laughed when she realised that she had said that out loud.  Grissom chuckled at her.

"Likewise."  He watched her blush.

"So, what were you two arguing about earlier?"  He brought the conversation back to normality.

"Oh, I was trying to get her ready in time, and all she wanted to do was read my book."  Catherine sounded exasperated.

"Which book?" he asked.  Catherine could feel her skin begin to heat up.  Trust Gil to ask the most awkward questions.

"Umm, it was a one of my books on blood," she lied.  "She knows she's not allowed to look at them."  Her voice did not sound at all convincing, but that was all he was getting.  If he had known that she had been reading a top shelf book, let alone that Lindsey had started reading it, he would never stop teasing her about it.  Gil Grissom had a surprisingly long memory.

"Ok."  He knew better than to question her, even though he knew she was not answering him truthfully.  "What can I get you?" he asked, changing the subject for the second time in as many minutes.  He had no idea how grateful Catherine was for that.

They made their way over to the sea of chairs with their drinks, and found a great view of the stage.  They waited for the festivities to start, drinking and chatting, just like old friends should.

5.58 pm

                Grissom knew that the children parading across the stage had worked very hard on their essays, and he knew that had shown great courage to read them out loud in front of the vast numbers of assembled parents, teachers, and friends.  He also knew that nothing they could have done would have prevented him from falling asleep.  It was not because he was bored or anything, but, well kids had this kind of monotonous drone when they read out loud.  He mentally chastised himself as Catherine hit him in the chest for at least the fifth time to wake him up.

                "Lindsey's on."  He turned to see her grinning up at the stage.  Blinking the sleep from his eyes, he focused his attention on the girl on the stage.  She stood on a box in front of the microphone and still seemed totally dwarfed by the whole structure.  The applause died down, and the small girl, seemingly quite unperturbed by the fairly large audience, began her essay.

"The dictionary defines independence someone, or something not controlled or ruled by anyone else, not wanting or needing anyone else to help you or do things for you, and lastly, not influenced by anyone else.  The person who I think fits this definition is my Mom.

 My Mom isn't controlled by anyone.  She does things because they make her happy, not because someone says she should.  She doesn't listen to what the advertisers on TV tell her she should like and doesn't follow the crowd when making decisions.  If she wants to eat ice cream for breakfast she does.  She didn't listen to anyone when they told her that being a CSI was not a job for a woman.  She wanted to make a difference and this was how she chose to do it.     

My Mom does not need anything from anyone else, but that doesn't mean she doesn't need anyone.  She lets the important people in her life know they are important and loved.  She told me once that I could have any kind of life I wanted, but no one was going to give me that life, I had to go out and get it.  She also said that the most important part of living your life wasn't the things in that life but the people and that you should always treasure the people above all else.  She always tell me she loves me but more importantly, she shows me with all the little things she does

My Mom isn't influenced by anyone else's opinion of what she should do.  She makes up her own mind about things.  She will talk about things, especially to Uncle Grissom, but she does what she thinks is best, even if everyone disagrees. 

                I want to be like my Mom when I grow up.  I want to be happy and live my life the way she taught me; to think for myself, to never let anyone tell me I can't do something, to respect the choices of others, and to treasure the people I love.  This is why I chose my Mom as the most independent person I know."

                Catherine sat as her baby girl finished, and she let the tears fall down her face.  Grissom had wrapped his arm around her shoulders as Lindsey had started to speak and held her to him as the girls frank and honest words touched her mother.  They stood with all those around them and applauded, pleased to see the huge grin on her face before she walked off stage.  Grissom resumed his position with his arms around Catherine.

                "I can't believe she looks up to me like that."

"Why not, Cath.  You're a strong woman.  Stronger, and more independent that anyone I've ever known.  Why shouldn't she want to be like you?"

"I can think of a few reasons…"  She was cut off by a gentle finger to her lips.

"She was completely right with what she said, Cath."  He smiled at her as she removed his finger, keeping it wrapped in her hand.

                "No.  She wasn't completely right, Gil."

He looked at her, a complete look of confusion crossing his face, making her smile.  "Really?  How?"

"Come on," she gestured out of the seats.  She would tell him later.  "Let's go see Lindsey."  She grabbed his arm and dragged a slightly scared looking Gil Grissom out of his seat.

9.16 pm.

                "Mom, can I go with Anna and Lucy to see the fireworks?"

Lindsey had been tugging at her Mom's sleeve for at least five minutes now, but Catherine had been talking to another parent.  Eventually, the girl had tugged at Grissom's arm and indicated that she wanted up.  He had smiled and agreed which pleased Lindsey, especially as she was now on the same level as the adults.  Catherine finished talking and turned to acknowledge her daughter sitting in Grissom's arms.  She smiled at the heart warming sight.

"What, sweetie?"

"Can she go with Anna and Lucy to see the fireworks?"  Grissom asked grinning, his voice pulled down like a nine-year old.  Catherine could not help but laugh like her daughter was at his imitation.

"Well, I guess so."  She smiled.  As Grissom watched, he could feel her smile warm him up inside.  "You'll have to take Lindsey with you.  You're too young to go on your own, Gil."  

Lindsey giggled as Grissom wrapped his free arm around Catherine's waist and began to tickle her.  She swatted his arm away before she lost all her energy laughing, and turned her attention back to Lindsey.

                "You stay with them at all times, ok?"

"Yes, Mom."

"And remember what I told you.  Don't go anywhere near the fireworks.  They're dangerous up close."

"I know Mom.  I won't."  Lindsey looked at her mother with the same look that kids always gave their parents when they told them something they had been told countless times before.

"Lindsey," Grissom piped in when he noticed the child's expression.  "It's important that you're careful.  Lot's of children get injured by fireworks on the Fourth of July."

"I know, Uncle Gil.  They showed us a safety video in school.  I don't want that to happen to me."

                He smiled, feeling pride for her once again.  "That's good, Linds.  Your Mom and I will be right over there."  He pointed to a deserted stack of hay towards the edge of the field.  "If you have any problems, you can come find us there."

"Ok."  She wriggled in his arms until he put her down, and she ran off to join her friends.  Grissom offered his arm to Catherine and led her over to his predetermined destination.

                He was surprised no one had come over here.  He'd been working out earlier the best place to view the fireworks and had concluded that this was the best place.  He found he was mildly confused that no one else had deduced this as well.  It was secluded, and the lights were shining away from the area, so it gave a good deal of privacy to anyone standing there.  Perfect, Grissom thought as they settled onto the hay for the duration.

                "You picked this place out."  Catherine had been watching him as he sat.  "I know you like to plan things, Gil, but…"

"I like to watch fireworks, Catherine.  I just picked out the best place."

"Oh."

                He hid a smile at her answer.  "What about you?"

"What?"  Catherine was surprised, and a little embarrassed to find herself flustered by his presence right next to her.  He had sat so that his side completely touched hers.  His body was warm against hers, and it was making her feel very flushed.

"Do you like fireworks?"  He had turned to look at her.

"I always loved them when I was Lindsey's age.  Now, I guess it's not so much fun."

                "Why not?"

Catherine was always amazed by the total innocence to his voice sometimes.  After everything he had seen in his work, things that would shock normal people, sometimes things struck him in the simplest terms.  Just like this; he just could not see any situation where fireworks were not fun.

"I guess it depends whether you have someone to share them with or not," she answered finally.

                "Ah."  He turned his head to look back over the field.  People were beginning to find places to stand for the show.  He swallowed.  He knew what had to come next.  "So.  What was it you were going to tell me, Cath?"

"I didn't say I was going to tell you anything."

"You implied it.  You wouldn't have made that statement if you didn't have something to say."  He watched her.  She could not meet his eyes.  "Why was Lindsey wrong?"

"It's nothing really, Gil.  I…"

                "Damn it Catherine.  I know you have something on your mind, and I know it's bothering you a lot.  Tell me what it is."  He reached up his hand and stroked it across her cheek.  "It will only make everything better."

"It might not."

"It might."

                Catherine was scared.  What she was about to admit to him was something that she had tried to tell herself was not important for a long time now.  She had been an independent person since her divorce more or less, but her heart told her she was cheating herself.  She may have been independent, but she was not happy.  There was something else she knew she needed that would give her the perfect opportunity to be both together, but the thought that she desperately wanted to depend on something was what really scared her.  It did not have to , if she just tried, she could share her independence with Gil, add to it, but it was hard to imagine getting everything to work well.  If she had thought she would have had a chance to get it gotten it, she would not have ignored herself for so long.

                "Lindsey said I told the people in my life that they were loved.  She was wrong.  There is something I need, really need, Gil.  I've been shutting it out for so long and I just can't anymore."

"What?"  His voice was quiet and she could hear the concern in his voice.  He had always been concerned about her, all the way through their friendship even if he failed to show it at times.  She could have asked for anything and he would have moved the heavens to get it for her.  He was perfectly prepared to that now.  Whatever it was she needed, he would get it for her.  He only ever wanted her to be happy.  He watched Catherine take a deep breath and focus her eyes onto his.

                "I need to tell you that I love you and I need to hear you say it back."

He could only look at her, not able to believe his own ears.

"You don't want to, do you."  Not a question, but a sad observation.  "You don't have to say it."  He silenced her with a finger to her lips.

"If I'd known, Catherine, I would have said it to you years ago."

"Really?"  Now it was her turn to look shocked.  "Why didn't you?"

"I never thought I'd hear you say it back to me."  His voice had gone down to a whisper, his face now mere inches from hers.

                "And now?"  She could hear the shake in his breath.

"I love you.  I can't think of anything I know that fares better in comparison to how you made me feel when you said you love me."  He brought his hand back to her cheek, relief etched in her features.  "I never wanted to think about what I would do if you ever left me, but I didn't know how to make you stay.  I felt selfish."

"Oh, Gil."  He took his head between her hands and kissed him, pushing her lips against his in a desperate attempt to taste him, to be a part of him.  She wanted nothing more than to lose herself in him and never get found again.  Somehow, she knew that if she got lost within his eyes, his lips, his soul, he would always keep her safe.

                Behind them, in the late twilight, the familiar shriek of a rocket being launched into the air, followed by its explosion pulled them away from each other.  They looked deep into each other, trying to regain their breath.  He touched her lips, her chin, her nose, her forehead, and followed his light touch of his fingers with the soft brush of his lips.  Catherine moaned, and pulled him back to her lips.

                "Now I know how fireworks can be fun," Catherine said finally, her voice quiet and breathless.

"They were only ever this much fun in my dreams," he replied, giving her a lop-sided smile.

"You planned all this, didn't you?"

"Not that you'll believe me, but no."  He chuckled as she frowned and he pulled her into his arms and readjusted them so they could watch the fireworks without him having to let her go.  "This was something I had only ever hoped for."

                "You are so unbelievably sweet."  She watched the reflection of a red firework reflected in his deep blue eyes.  He just smiled and turned back contentedly to watch the rest of the display.  The excited squeals of young children drifted over with the slight breeze and reached his ears, along with the joyful chatter of the adults and he gave silent thanks, as he did every day, that he had not lost the ability to hear the simple sounds that he took for granted.  There had been a time when he thought he would never hear her voice again.  Not now though.

                Catherine reached up and took his face again, unable to keep from kissing him, the fireworks unable to disturb them anymore.  He was an addiction, one she would never give up and she loved it.

                "Catherine," he said against her lips.

"What?"  She kissed him again, unwilling to let him go.  Gil smiled.

"Happy Fourth of July."

The End.


End file.
